Victoria's Secret
by JustAnAverageJane
Summary: *After season two* Sherlock's not dead, along with another. Victoria is back in London after ten years. How does she know John? Why'd she leave in the first place? Why is Sherlock stumped? Rated M for later sexual content. Victoria is an original character. . . kind of. . . You'll see.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Up these stairs, down the hall, through the double doors, and to the left," said the man at the front desk with a smile. He handed me a manila envelope. "Bring this with you."

I flashed a winning smile back thanking him for the directions. As I continued down the hallway the heels of my boots clicked, my long black jacket billowed, and my hair flowed just past my shoulders. The feeling was marvelous. It was as if I ran the place.

Many things had happened in the past ten years, and it is now that I return from a long trip. For the past ten years I spent my life on the tropical Virgin Islands; Saint Thomas to be exact. It was a long experience and it was thrilling to be back in London. The cold matched me better than the heat.

It was a chilly November day in London. I'd almost forgotten how much I enjoyed it. Most people would rather enjoy spending the past ten years on a tropical island; the sun kissing their skin every day, little to no worries, and all the relaxation. On the other hand, I'm not most people. I'm far from most people.

While walking, I opened the envelope peaking at the information it withheld. It was on a corpse of a man who died from a gunshot. The bullet went straight through his heart. How original. He was a short, heavy man in his forties. The background information said his wife and him were married for ten years, and bickered often. He and his wife were in a fight; she must have one hell of a shot. Good for her.

I reached the door where the security guard told me to go and I stood by the door. A black cover up lined the window so one couldn't look in or out. I placed my hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

As I opened the door I was two things. One being a tall man with a pistol in his right hand, he was repeatedly striking a body on a lab table. The back of his head consisted of black waves and curls. His coat must be the one hanging off of the chair next to me. He continuously stuck the dead body on the table. The other thing in the room was Molly Hooper. She watched intensely as the tall one stuck the body over and over again. Her focus was not on the body, but the man enforcing the beating. Her eyes seemed to be dazed even though her expression was so intense. I could only assume that he was handsome in her eyes.

"Do you always let the handsome ones have their turn with the body first?" I asked tossing the envelope on the cluttered desk next to me.

Molly and the tall man turned to look at me acknowledging my presence. I was right. He truly was handsome; with hard cheekbones and dark wavy hair, but the eyes were beautiful. His hard face made him seem dark, mysterious, and a tiny bit demented. Take it from the way he brutally attacked the body he knew what he was doing and how to handle a gun. He studied me as I studied him.

I'd seen him before. I couldn't quite remember. One would think it would be hard to forget a face like his. I remember all my clients. He wasn't one of them, but he was looking at me as if it was his first time seeing me. So where had I seen him before?

Molly, on the other hand, hadn't changed in the past ten years. She was still as gorgeous as ever. Her hair was parted to the side and pulled back into a loose ponytail. Her brown eyes looked upon mine. They were wide with shock. Her jaw hung in awe upon seeing me.

"Victoria?" She questioned slowly.

"Hello, Molly," I grinned like a two-year-old who received a present on their birthday.

Her shock seemed to take over her as she dropped her clipboard and slowly shuffled her feet before rushing toward me. I embraced her in a hug and kissed her soft cheek. I stood back to get another look at her. Then out of nowhere and much to my surprise, she slapped me across the face. Hard.

"I probably deserved that," I groaned clutching my cheek.

Molly didn't look so sweet anymore.

"Where the _hell_ have you been?" she exclaimed quite loudly.

"Molly," I reasoned, "I can explain."

"Damn right you will!" I'd never seen her like this. "Ten years, Victoria! I waited _ten_ years! You just left me all alone for ten whole years! How dare you leave me like that! Why on earth would you even come back after all this time? Why would you leave me like that?"

"Molly, I had to –"

"You had to? You had to!" Tears welded in her eyes. I tried to speak. "Shut up! Why are you back now? I was finally over you leaving, and now you're here thinking you can waltz back in. Not a single letter, or phone call, or email, or even a postcard? You're just like 'Oh, hello Molly! Let me back in your life!' Well, I don't want you here now. I spent ten years without you. I can spend the rest without you!

"Sorry, Sherlock," She said calmly to the man, "Victoria is just leaving. I wouldn't be the first time."

That hit me low. Much to Molly's dislike, I pulled up a chair and sat down. I folded my hands and looked at a surprised Sherlock. He had obviously never seen Molly act this way before. I could admit it was a bit of a shock.

Sherlock. That's a name I would never forget. I'd heard a great deal about him over the past four years. He was a very popular detective in London. I had an inside source on him. Yet, I had only seen one photo of him.

"You must be the mysterious Sherlock Holmes," I said to him. "Now tell me, Holmes, who am I?"

"Oh, don't you start with your little façade, Victoria, or did you change your name too?" Molly jeered.

"Molly, I really can explain," I stated, "but, I'd like to know just who Mr. Holmes thinks I am."

Sherlock looked from me to the body. Bruises had formed and cuts were oozing. Each cut and bruise seemed to be too perfect. What was he using unrealistic data for? It wasn't logical.

Molly bent over and picked up her clipboard from the floor. Then hurrying she scribbled down the new data Sherlock made. Sherlock set the gun on the table. Molly went to work trying to ignore me, but continued to glance every now and then to see if I was still here.

"Well," I over exaggerated the 'e', "Molly, I'll be on my way. I'll be sure to stop by tomorrow. Don't worry, I won't leave London."

She stopped working for a bit. Her voice went back the concerned voice I had always remembered. "Where will you stay?"

"An old friend of mine has agreed that I can bunk with him for a few nights." I stood and headed for the door. "He says he knows you, Molly. Question is," I grabbed the handle and opened the door, "how do you know Doctor John Watson?"

I left, but not before seeing her mouth drop once again. Sherlock's back stiffened before the door clicked shut. My heels clicked against the tiles as I walked. My face went back to its normal blank expression. My cheek still slightly stung.

A cab waited for me at the entrance. It was right on time; just as I had suspected. I climbed inside and situated myself into a comfortable position.

"Two, two, one Baker Street, please."

The rain started to drizzle, and soon enough it was a London downpour. It wasn't cold enough to snow just yet. As I got out from the cab I saw the familiar man. He helped into the building by placing his umbrella over my head blocking the rain. Inside was much warmer.

"Good to see you again, John," I spoke as we walked up the stairs.

"How long has it been, Victoria?" He asked. "Five years?"

"Felt more like five lifetimes," I joked.

He pulled me into a hug making me secure in his arms.

"Your things are in my room. Tea's on the stove," He spoke into my ear. "You can either stay on the couch, which I don't recommend, or you can stay in my bed."

I leaned back. "And just where would you sleep?"

"On the left side because you prefer the right," John remembered.

"Thank you, John. I'll be in a much needed shower."

I walked into the bathroom and started to kick off my shoes.

"So how do you know Molly?" He asked from the other side of the door.

I gave a faint smile. "We go way back, that's all."

After stripping from my layers of clothes I stepped into the steaming shower. Letting it engulf me in its warm water, I let out a soft sigh of relief. Nothing felt better after a long day than a hot shower. It was especially better after the rough encounter with Molly. Once forty-five minutes had passed I found the nerve to escape the warmth of the water. Wrapping a towel around myself, I left the bathroom.

John must have gone out, so I reheated the water for the tea he left for me on the stove. The place was a complete mess, but I enjoyed that. I had always remembered John to be the clean type, but I guess people change.

The teapot whistled and I turned off the burner removing the teapot. There was a presence behind me as I poured myself a cup of tea. I grabbed another glass and poured one for the other.

"I should have known you'd come here. So," I turned, "Mr. Holmes, did you figure it out, or did Molly tell you?"

Sherlock Holmes took the cup I held out to him. After taking a long sip he looked at me. Two correct words left his lips.

"Victoria Hooper."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"You're her sister," Sherlock said while walking to an armchair. "She seems pretty upset. From what I'm getting, you left home at eighteen to find yourself. But you already knew who you were. You needed to escape; probably for a crime. Someplace tropical, based on your amount of tan even though it is the middle of November. You somehow ran into John sometime after arriving, hence why you are in this flat now. Definitely not a love thing. Flatmates? It must have been before he was sent to Afghanistan. Then he left after that and you didn't hear from him for a while. Except you got a letter, he wanted you to return home.

"Why return for him? Maybe he convinced you to see your sister. But based on the way you reacted when you saw her it wouldn't have mattered when you would return. It could have been years from now and still would have been the same reaction. You left her alone to hang onto anyone or thing that can care for her. This explains her dating history, which really has nothing to do with why you are here. So, why are you here, Miss Hooper?"

"You're pretty clever, Mr. Holmes," I smiled. "No wonder she likes you." I took my place in the armchair across from him. He gave me a blank stare. "Oh come on, I know you've have realized it before. I know my sister better than anyone else. Her body language around you is enough proof. You completely use it to your advantage. Not saying I haven't done the same thing for my advantage. Either way, I don't approve of you using her to your advantage, no matter who you are. Which is why, when she walks through that door, I don't want you to use her for whatever you need."

The sound of footsteps came from the stairway filling our silence. I sipped my tea as Molly entered through the door. Beads of water dripped from her soaked body and hair. She must have come from work and got caught in the rain. I stood, took the robe down from one of the doors, and wrapped my sister's freezing body in it.

"What are you doing in just a towel?" She questioned.

"Going to the theatre," I remarked sarcastically. She truly looked hurt and no longer mad. "Sit down and I will explain everything."

Molly sat in the chair I was sitting in. Sherlock got up and grabbed Molly a blanket from his room. I shot him a warning glare to show I didn't want him manipulating her decisions. She took the blanket and my tea. Once I changed into a pair of comfortable clothes I leaned against the fireplace ledge next to a human skull.

"Molly," I started, "first off, I'm sorry I left when I did. I figured a clean break would be the best for us. Things were bad enough as it was, and I couldn't have you watching me. For the past ten years I lived in the Virgin Islands. I know you no longer care about the money, but I brought back a whole lot just for you. I got a job as a bounty hunter and a detective, kind of like how Sherlock is. Money was just flying in when they needed me. It also helped that I know how to sweet talk people.

"Either way, I met John while I was there. He was just a flatmate for a little bit. Funny, it seems like you two seem to enjoy the presence of sociopaths. No offense Sherlock, but we both know we are the same.

"I came back for you Molls. I'm tired of running away. I need to stay home and make up for lost time. We have ten years under our belts that I have to redeem. Please, Molly, please understand."

Molly walked over to me and wrapped me in her blanket. I could feel her warm tears fall upon my shoulder. I hadn't been this close to someone for a long time. She was one of the two important people in my life. I would do anything to make her happy.

The door opened and John came in with a carton of milk. He set the umbrella down and set it in the fridge before looking at me and tilting his head. His face seemed to ask 'What's going on?' I just winked at him.

Molly leaned back and looked into my eyes. "Do you promise never to leave again?" She sniffled.

"Yes."

Her grasp around me tightened.

The night went on and Molly told me about her life here in London. She told stories about how she had bought a cat named Toby. She had a whole lot of stories about him. I feared that I may have turned her into a crazy cat woman. That wouldn't be a good thing. Then we got on the topic of past relationships.

"Don't forget about the lovely Jim Moriarty," Sherlock mentioned.

"It was three dates and I ended it," Molly input.

I choked on my saliva. "_You_ were with James Moriarty?"

"Jim," she corrected, "and I did end it!"

I couldn't blame her for dating the most famous criminal in my mind. People get with others for power all the time. He had a lot of it. Who could blame a girl?

"What about you, Victoria?" John asked. "You've had to have some sort of a boyfriend or husband of some sort."

"Oh you know I am far too busy to care for relationships," I remarked, "far too much of a hassle for my liking."

"Not a single boyfriend or little fling?" my sister asked.

"Well, there was this one man," I smiled to myself. "It seems he got away from me. I realized my work was far too important."

As the night drew on our stories got shorter. Molly left in a cab for her home a little after midnight and John recalled to his room.

"So," Sherlock said once we were alone again, "what was the crime?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I smirked. "Goodnight, Sherlock."

I retreated to John's room rejecting the couch. John was just taking off his shirt as I closed the door.

"Sorry to barge in," I apologized. "I'm lacking a place to sleep."

"Well, I can always just sleep on the couch," he offered. "But I really enjoy my bed."

"I don't mind sharing." I shook my head.

"Has he figured out how we know each other yet?"

I shook my head 'no' as John climbed into bed. He motioned for me to join him. Once I turned out the light I crawled in with him.

A knock at the door caused me to wake up. The deep gurgle from next to me called them into the room. The door opened and Sherlock looked in. Molly was next to him in her work clothes.

I overheard Molly speak. "Sorry to wake you, but I wanted to know if Victoria would like to come to work with me. John don't you also have to go to work."

"Shit," John mumbled.

The cold air hit my legs as John whisked off the covers. Once he closed the door I put a pillow over my head hoping to block out all outside noises.

"You should go with Molly," John said. "It'll be good for you two. Plus, you are smart enough for the job."

Mumbling a few unpleasant words, I rolled from the comfort of the bed taking John's sheets with me. The floor was like ice, tempting me to crawl back into the warm bed. It took a lot of strength to wobble over to my suitcase and grab a pair of jeans and a tee shirt.

"Give me ten minutes," I grumbled.

Pushing past John, I went to the bathroom. After slashing warm water on my face, I dried and put on my make-up. Then I stepped into my clothes and exited the bathroom.

Molly and John were waiting for me. I assumed that Sherlock was still sleeping. John had my suitcases in his hands. Giving a puzzled look I asked, "Kicking me out already?"

"Molly suggested that you lived her from now on. Also so that you wouldn't be stuck sharing a bed with me," John explained.

"How kind of you, Molls," I smiled as we left for door together. Molly left down the stairs. "I'll take these from you, John. Thank you for your pleasant hospitality. Good to see you again. We should get a few drinks sometime and catch up. Feel free to call."

He nodded and handed me my suitcases. I kissed his cheek before I went to catch up with Molly. The two of us stepped into the cab Molly had taken to get here.

Throughout the day I followed Molly like a lost puppy. Every now and then she'd ask me about living in the islands. I would then respond to her with explaining how it wasn't all it was set out to be, and that I hated being so far apart from her.

"You know, it's nice of you to lie to me," Molly said at the end of the day.

"I don't know what you mean," I lied while putting my suitcase in her spare room.

Molly stood in the doorway.

"You're my younger sister," she started. "I know when you are lying. You're good, very good; maybe even good enough to fool Sherlock. I know you didn't come back because of me. Tell me, please, why did you come back to London?"

I just grinned. "Oh, Molly dear, I really did miss you. Goodnight sister."

I closed the door and went to my bed. Opening my laptop, I checked my emails. Nothing new popped up. I refreshed the page several times just to double check. It was a bit of a disappointment that I had no new clients to reply to. My mysterious on from London hadn't even sent me a request.

I sent myself an email just to check that my email still received messages. My email to myself popped up to prove that I still could get them. I closed my laptop and put it on the night table beside my bed. I turned off the light and feel fast asleep.

**Thank you for reading **** Hope you like it . . . yeah . . . words . . . so how is your day going?**


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